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lovebugism · 5 months

Note

"we’re arguing when the ball drops on new year’s eve, and decide to kiss and shit i don’t think i hate you anymore"

with eddie and grumpy!r pls

ty for requesting! :D — your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can't stand (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Another year passes in a blink, and suddenly everyone around you is chanting “new year, new me” like it’s not just some overdone mantra destined to be forgotten by mid-February.

It’s not surprising that you and Eddie are the only two not participating in the holiday theatrics. It’s also not surprising that the two of you are spending the entirety Steve’s New Years party bickering like a married couple on the couch.

You both got dragged here — you by Robin, and him by Dustin — and the two of you are acting like total grumps about it accordingly. And even though you can’t stand being in the same room as each other, you’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room all night.

You’re sitting pretty in a black dress beside him, scowling like a storm cloud while Eddie scoops a handful of pretzels in his mouth. Seemingly noticing your side-eyed glare, he starts to chew more audibly because he knows how much you hate it. The slow and rhythmic smack smack smack makes the chatter around you sound more distant as your skin begins to crawl.

Eddie smiles when you tense — wider when you glare at him.

“Sometimes I wonder why I hate you, and then you do stuff like that, and I think to myself, “oh yeah, that’s why.”

He grins with all his teeth, pretzels crumbs and all. “The feeling’s mutual, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

You shake your crossed leg to the music playing softly overhead and try to focus on the television in front of you. The staticky film of Times Square isn’t quite as distracting as the boy beside you — and not just because he’s purposefully trying to annoy you.

He has no right to be this pretty, with his wild hair and black button-up and smudged eyeliner. It’s hardly fair.

“Don’t act like one, and I won’t,” he retorts, muffled through the food in his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you the widest smile he’s ever looked at you with. The bits of chewed-up pretzel in his teeth make you grimace.

“You’re a child,” you deadpan.

Eddie laughs — a pretty little sound in a scoffed-out breath.

He sits the half-empty bowl on the coffee table, then pushes his sleeves to his elbows. His arms are pale, lanky, and tattooed. Some of the ink is faded and messy, obviously not done by professionals. You think those intrigue you the most. You’d ask about the stories behind them if you even cared.

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and looks at you over his shoulder. His smile is pink and made of honey — his eyes dark and made of fire.

“You can act like you hate me all you want, but everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me,” he teases with a scrunched nose, motioning to the room with his pointer finger.

No one’s paying either of you any mind. They’re too focused on their own conversations to care about the ones you and Eddie have had a thousand times over. You try to act as disinterested as they do. You think you’re playing the part pretty well, honestly, but Eddie’s looking at you with a twinkle in his eye like he can see right through it.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he huffs and leans back again, spreading his arms across the back of the couch.

The sudden proximity isn’t lost in you. Neither is the smell of nicotine and sandalwood radiating off of him. It stirs a velvety feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try hopelessly to shove down.

“You must be completely and utterly blind, then.”

“Uh-uh,” he hums with a shake of his wild head. “Twenty-twenty vision, baby.” He leans in close to croon the words in your ear, and your heart lurches into your throat. You shove him off with a half-hearted hand anyway.

“Get off me!” you groan, face scrunched in a childlike annoyance. “And don’t call me baby.”

Eddie settles back beside you with a subtle pout between his brows. “If I can’t call you princess and I can’t call you baby, then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Nothing!” you shout, like being called baby hadn’t stirred something foreignly pleasant behind your ribcage. “Don’t call me anything! Don’t call me at all—”

“Guys! Come here! The ball’s about to drop!” Dustin shouts over the chatter to get everyone’s attention, a bit too loudly. He stands in front of the television along with the rest of the small crowd, ogling at the bad reception of the Times Square Ball and a flashing countdown.

“Sounds like me in middle school,” Eddie jokes, making Steve snort out a laugh when he walks in from the kitchen. You shoot the wild-haired boy a squinted look of disgust and he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon! That was funny, and you know it.”

“Ten!” the crowd begins to chorus.

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble.

“And you’re the one who’s obsessed with the idiot, so… Who’s the real weirdo?”

“Nine!”

“Still you.”

“Ooh,” Eddie lilts, plush lips softly pouted. “So you are obsessed with me?”

“Eight!”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “You love putting words in my mouth, don’t you?”

“Like I said,” the boy hums with a smug smile. “Just calling it like I see it, honey.”

“Seven!”

The dumb name shouldn’t make you melt like it does. You turn into a puddle before you can come up with another comeback. You forget how to form words and get lost in how soft his lips look, pink and delicate like a flower. God, he’s so pretty, you hate him.

“Six!” your friends continue to chant, the only sound in the expansive living room. “Five!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, honestly,” the boy assures with an absentminded shrug, tilting his flushed cheek to his shoulder and flashing you an unkissed grin.

“Four!”

“You’re not the first girl to fall head over heels for me, and you won’t be the last.”

The corner of your lip curls into a quiet smirk. You squint at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a sudden longing for him to eat his words. “Is that so?” you croon lowly.

“Three!”

He leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret. The nicotine-whiskey concoction on his breath brushes your cheek. Screw the alcohol in your abandoned cup — you’d sooner get drunk on him.

“I’ll make sure to let you down easy, alright? I promise,” Eddie hums with a feigned seriousness.

“Yeah?”

“Two!”

He nods, bushy brows pinching softly together and petaled mouth gently pouting. “Yeah. I’m not in the heartbreaking business, you know? I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, princess, but you should there’s no way in hell that I’m ever gonna—”

“One!” the house chants together, louder this time as they shout, “Happy New Year!”

You blink, and suddenly everyone’s grabbing onto somebody.

Robin and Vickie share a quiet peck you don’t miss in the corner of the room. Mike and El smack a more obvious kiss in the very center of it. A newly grown-up Dustin tries his chances with Nancy, glancing at her with a silent smile she shakes her head at — “Not a chance, kiddo,” she says with a soft pink grin. Even Max leans over to brush a kiss to Lucas’ cheek, right before scowling at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re back together, Sinclair.”

So you feel it’s only right, that in a room of kissed mouths, you get kissed, too.

Eddie is the perfect victim. Mostly because he hasn’t stopped yapping since he sat down beside you, some hours ago now. You reach for him, splaying your hand across his warm jaw (that grows somehow hotter beneath your touch), and pressing a kiss to his blabbering mouth.

You swallow all the half-hearted insults he spews at you because he thinks you really hate him. In Eddie’s mind, if being mean is how he gets closer to you, then when you go low, he’ll go all the way to hell.

You don’t kiss him like you hate him, though. You kiss him like you can taste stars in his mouth. Like the rest of your whole life is sitting on his tongue.

Your mouth locks with his for a moment, kissing the breath from his lungs, only to pull away a second later.

Eddie’s totally frozen when you’re gone. The loudmouth boy — who you decided to hate if you couldn’t love — is left so suddenly speechless. He blinks at you with heavy, velvet eyes and grieves a thing he didn’t even know he could have.

A grin pulls at your freshly kissed mouth. It feels good to have the upper hand again.

“You’re never gonna what?” you tease, tilting your head like you’re innocent.

His mouth parts for an answer. Nothing comes out.

Your smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Honey.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

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dilatorywriting · 8 months

Note

“I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

For the event, can I request Malleus for this? I need to send ALL my love to him ASAP. Although for this, feel free to have him being the one saying it to reader.

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt 51: "I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

There was something about being in love with a fae that would always be at least a little intimidating.

No, it wasn’t the unearthly powers that could literally rip through the fabric of time and space with a snap of his fingers. No, it wasn’t the cold, serpentine stare or the sharp fangs in his mouth that shined like well-polished knives under the right light. It wasn’t even the horns. Even though they added an extra foot onto the dragon’s already stupidly impressive height.

But there were other things, sometimes. Less tangiblethings.

You tried not to think about it too much, because you loved Tsunotarou. Really, you did. And you didn’t want some… some creeping thing at the fringes of your consciousness to ruin that.

It was cold tonight, and you puffed warm breath onto your fingers. Normally Malleus was the one waiting for you to arrive at your usual Gargoyle Filled haunts, but he’d had a meeting with his retainers today. And you weren’t surprised he was running a bit late in the aftermath.

‘Man, I’m surprised Draconia is ever on time for anything,’ Ace had complained, during some mandatory assembly or other. Watching as Malleus floated into the room a solid two hours after scheduled.

‘He’s usually very punctual,’ you’d answered, confused.

‘Sure, sure. But don’t fae have, like, super fucked up senses of time?’ the redhead mused. ‘Like I bet you could tell him to meet you in an hour and he’d show up a week later or something.’

“Child of man,” a familiar timbre called out over the snow, and you perked up immediately, hopping from foot to foot to get your circulation going again before trotting out to meet him halfway.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped. “How was your day?”

“Dreadful,” he answered, deadpan, and bent his arm neatly so that you could tuck your fingers into the crook of his elbow and snuggle yourself into his side. He was like a walking furnace, what with the roaring, emerald fires in his belly. And the snowflakes seemed to melt before they’d even touched his skin. “Nothing but paperwork. Perhaps I should turn them all into enchanted quills, and then they might finally be fit for their positions.”

You snorted into your glove. “You’d need to turn some of them into ink then, too.”

“Ah, of course,” he intoned. And then shot you a smirk that was just on the right side of besotted. “Whatever would I do without your wise guidance?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, and then smiled right back in that stupidly, soppy way. “But you seemed more than smart enough to manage on your own before I came along. And I’m sure you’ll go back to being brilliant when I’m gone,” you added on a laugh.

But Malleus didn’t join in your giggling.

The fae stopped in place, and you were dragged to a halt with him. You blinked up at him, confused. His expression was… complicated.

“You are leaving?” he asked, each word sounding like it had to be pried out of his mouth with a crowbar.

“What?” you blinked. “Of course not.” Crowley never having bothered to lift a feathery finger to find you a way home aside, you had more than enough reasons to stay here for as long as your meager, mortal life would allow. Going home… it soured something in your stomach that you didn’t even want to consider. So you just tightened your fingers around his arm and shot him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster. “Even if I had the choice, I’d be staying right here.”

But that just made Malleus’s brow pinch up tighter.

“Then what did you mean?” he questioned, perplexed. “When you said ‘when I’m gone.’”

Ah.

You fought a guilty wince. You hadn’t wanted to drag your own little terrors into his worries as well. You really needed to get a better leash on the poor quips that managed to tumble out of your mouth.

“Well, just that, uhm…” You waved your free hand awkwardly. “You know.”

More furrowing.

“I do not,” he said, sounding grumpy. It was a bit adorable, seeing an almighty prince and near God pout at you. But you fought off the urge to coo over his pursed lips and scrunched nose. Time and place, self. Time and place.

“I’m mortal,” you said finally, hoping that would cover it.

“And?”

Ugh. Come on, dude. Give me something here.

You shrugged, tight and awkward. “Just that, well, you know. Your lifespan is near infinite right? And mine is sort of set to be…” You held up your fingers and pinched them close together. “Uhm. Not that.”

“And you think that such an inconsequential factor means that you will be leaving me?” he asked, and you blinked at him in outright confusion.

“It’s pretty consequential,” you squeaked out, and averted your gaze. “And.. and besides. I knew that from the beginning. And I just want to be able to make the best out of the time with you that I have,” you said, hoping it sounded properly reassuring and not like the start of a particularly peppy obituary.

“…I see,” the Prince said, low. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be gone, I’m sure.”

You blinked again, owlish and slow.

“Pardon?”

“What is the human expression…?” he hummed, tucking your arm back tightly against his side and starting up your leisurely stroll once more. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Almost so much as time itself.”

Yeah, you wanted to amend. But not from beyond the grave.

“I guess so,” you shrugged.

“Can you imagine then,” he hummed. “How much I’ll love you in a thousand years?”

“I—” you swallowed, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes.

But rather than give your poor, fluttering soul a chance to recover, he just pushed onwards.

“I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I suppose that I’ll just love you even more,” he said, perfectly level and serious, like he hadn’t just absolutely pulled your heart out of your chest and set the whole of you on fire.

You stared up at his regal, handsome face from beneath a soft veil of falling snow. With those cold, emerald eyes, the pointed fangs, the horns. You felt like your stomach had fallen out at your toes, like the whole of you was bound to float away like a balloon lost in the breeze. Because he’d said—he’d really—

“And of course,” the dragon shrugged. “I’ve always intended to extend your lifespan to begin with.”

You gaped at him wordlessly for a moment, before letting out a hideously embarrassed squawk and pounding at his chest with your gloved hands.

“You could’ve told me that!” you shrieked, practically steaming in the cold with the heat pulsing off your cheeks.

“I suppose,” he smirked, catching your flailing fists easily in one of his own large hands. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction to my declarations, would I?” he cooed, all smooth, dark chocolate and smoky embers. “And I had to work so hard to memorize those lines. Fitting as they are, I was told that the moment to use them would have to be perfect, and—"

“Did Lilia set you up for this?” you choked.

Malleus snorted and turned to tug you further down the path. “Only a little.”

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #My Writing #Writing Prompts

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7s3ven · 3 months

Text

MY LOVE. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… the half-blood campers live in a world where everybody is granted a soulmate. Everybody but the favoured child of Aphrodite, who was always destined to live a life without true love.

“My love is mine, all mine. I love mine, mine, mine. Nothing in the world belongs to me.”

( inaccurate details )

Warnings : Slight angst, not proofread (grammar mistakes)

A/N : late Valentines special… oops

—

Depending on what type of person you were, the concept of soulmates were either a blessing or a curse. To Y/N L/N, it was neither because she was never given a partner. The unseeable red string tied around her left ring finger never led to anybody else. Her skin never replicated the wounds of another person. Her world was always a scope covered in bright colours instead of depressing grey hues.

To others, her lack of a soulmate was great. She was free to love whomever she wanted without having to worry about a so-called soulmate. To her, it was hell. While it was true that she could like any person she chose, she would never be their first option. She was smart and beautiful and charming but their ideal pick would always be their soulmate.

It was sad, honestly. Especially when she knew boys would like her if soulmates didn’t exist.

Even when Y/N arrived at Camp Half-Blood, she was an exception. No soulmate meant no love life in other people’s eyes so it shocked everyone when Y/N was claimed by the very person who created the idea of fated partners. Aphrodite.

Y/N was awoken by loud giggles. She cracked an eye open, staring at her siblings across from her. “Why are you all up so early?” She almost groaned. It was seven in the morning and she knew her siblings always valued their beauty sleep. “Is Elvis Presley here or something?”

“No.” Silena grinned at Y/N, her cheeks flushing a pale pink colour, “Even better. A new boy just arrived last night and rumour has it that he’s cute. Cuter than Malcom.”

Malcom was an Ares kid. Ares and Aphrodite children always got along for some reason and because their parents had a complicated love relationship, so did they.

“Malcom isn’t that good-looking. What about Ben?” Y/N retorted, kicking her blankets off.

“I think Nigel is better.” Another sibling piped up, causing the whole cabin to burst into muffled laughter.

“That’s because you’re gay, Andrew!” They all exclaimed in unison, trying not to wake the other cabins.

Y/N leaned her head against her fluffed up pillow, gazing at Silena. “So, what’s this cutie’s name?”

“Luke.” Silena immediately answered, proud of herself for remembering the new camper’s name. “He came with Grover and a little girl.”

“Annabeth.” Andrew added. Y/N quietly hummed.

“Don’t be too loud.” She muttered, “I still want to sleep.”

As the commotion amongst her siblings died down, they too went back to bed. Y/N watched as Silena traced her soulmate tattoo before lying down, gently smiling. Y/N glanced at her own wrist, imagining her own mark inked onto her skin. What was it like knowing you were destined to love someone and they were destined to love you?

It must be reassuring.

Y/N didn’t remember when she drifted off, but she did and when she opened her eyes again, the sun was seeping through the light pink curtains.

Y/N lightly sighed as she sat up, running a hand through her perfect hair. That was a peek of having Aphrodite as her mother.

“Oh, you’re finally up. We thought you were sad. Too bad you aren’t.” Drew Tanaka was as cruel as ever. She was sitting at the vanity, applying a layer of pressed powder onto her face.

“Even if I did die, Drew, Silena would be the next cabin counsellor.” Y/N nonchalantly uttered as she stood up, stretching. Drew quietly scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“At least I have a soulmate.” She grumbled.

When Drew Tanaka hit hard, Y/N L/N always made sure to hit back harder.

“Yeah? Well, at least my ‘soulmate’ doesn’t hate me because of a rumour about me sleeping with his best friend. Which, by the way, was true.” Y/N quickly snapped back, leaving Drew speechless. Y/N was never one to act out but when someone asked for it, she delivered a killing blow.

Like any normal Aphrodite daughter, Y/N took her sweet time in doing her makeup. She could feel Drew’s glare on her as she swiped a red tint across her lips.

Y/N arrived at breakfast a little late, just in time to see the new kids stumble into the pavilion. Girls turned to whisper to each other, subtly pointing at the boy and blushing.

“That’s Luke and Annabeth, right?” Y/N questioned as she took a big gulp from her golden chalice. Silena quickly nodded, glancing at Luke.

“See, I told you he was cute.”

Y/N shrugged but Silena did have a point. Luke, with his perfect side profile, sharp jawline, and pretty curled hair, was a pleasant sight for sore eyes.

Y/N was caught off-guard when Luke sat down at the Hermes table and immediately lifted his head, his gaze settling on her without hesitation. Y/N quickly looked away, glancing at her wrist like she always did in hopes a tattoo would appear by some miracle.

Drew saw her moment of weakness and instantly commented on it. “Still no soulmate, Y/N?” Silena sent her half-sister a disapproving stare.

“Yeah. I’ll just fuck yours, I guess.”

Drew’s face sank for the second time. “Stay away from Sulan.” She hissed, glancing at the Demeter boy who wanted nothing to do with Drew.

Fate always drew people together so it was no surprise that everybody in Camp Half-Blood had their soulmates in the same place. There were multiple ways you could find your soulmate, depending on your mark.

Silena had her matching tattoo. Drew had that damned red string that only she could see. And Andrew could only sed the world in black and gray until his soulmate arrived, which they hadn’t yet.

Across the pavilion, Luke lightly nudged a teen named Chris. “Who’s that?” He asked, pointing at the H/C-hIred girl who was sitting with a group of unnaturally attractive kids.

Chris laughed for a short moment. “Y/N L/N. She will eat you alive, boy.”

“Has she found her soulmate yet?”

Demigods weren’t much better than their parents. They played around until they found their soulmate and that’s when they settled down. At least, for most. Some still had flings here and there, proving that they were just like the gods.

Luke’s question causes Chris to pause. He lightly chewed the inside of his mouth before stabbing his fork into a piece of bacon. “She doesn’t have a soulmate.” He murmured.

“How come?”

“We don’t know. She’s wondering the exact same question.” Chris shrugged before going back to his breakfast, “You can talk to her if you want but she’s a little mean so be careful of that.”

Luke quietly hummed, circling his finger around the rim of his cup.

The first time Luke talked to Y/N was when he and Annabeth were separated to go on different tours. Luke ended up with Y/N, who beamed at him and crinkled her eyes.

“Hi.” She effortlessly greeted him, waving.

“Sup.” Luke choked out, his voice accidentally going up a pitch higher. He cleared his throat. “I’m Luke.”

“So I’ve heard. Y/N.”

They walked side by side in a comfortable silence until Y/N spoke again. “Where’s your third person?” She questioned. “And I’m not talking about Grover.”

Chiron had tried to keep Thalia a secret but the gossip still managed to reach Y/N’s ears.

Slowly, Luke pointed at the tree that had mysteriously appeared this morning. It guarded the barrier between the camp and the mortal world.

“He turned her into a tree.” Luke grumbled, clearly displeased.

Y/N didn’t have to question who he was. Zeus, the king of the gods and ruler of the sky, had decided to turn his only daughter into a tree.

“Yes. The gods have always been a little… questionable. Shall we continue with the tour?” Y/N guided Luke forward. She did most of the talking while he listened, or at least tried to. It was hard when an absolutely stunning girl was standing in front of him.

“And last but not least, the strawberry field. Pretty, isn’t it?” Y/N smiled as she stared at the fresh strawberries. Luke let out a small ‘yeah’ but he was still staring at her. Y/N clapped her hands together, finally bringing Luke back to reality. “That marks the end of our tour. Any questions?”

Luke shook his head.

“Great. Oh, and if you’re worried about your soulmate, they’ll show up at some point. All the new kids freak out over it. If you’re a demigod, it’s almost guaranteed that so is your soulmate.” Y/N smiled again, making Luke’s knees weak.

Where was a matching tattoo when he needed one?

“So, uh… your soulmate… what are they like?” Luke knew he was most likely overstepping a boundary when he asked that. But Y/N, used to the shame and embarrassment of not having one, merely shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know. For some reason, my mother wants me to spend my life alone.” Y/N laughed but Luke could see the pain that flashed through her eyes. The same exact agony that Luke had been experiencing after all his peers found their soulmates expect him.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t have one either.” Luke piped up. “I guess we can be lonely together.”

Y/N carefully gazed up at him. She felt a glimmer of hope spark inside her chest but she shoved it down. She refused to get her hopes up. “Everybody has one, Luke. You do too. Maybe my mom just wanted me to play the role of Cupid.”

Y/N walked off before Luke could say anything else. Annabeth instantly replaced her. “What did you say to make her leave?” For a young kid, she sure had a sharp tongue.

“Don’t even, Annabeth.” Luke’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. He never had a problem with getting girls to like him because of his good looks, but they never stayed. And Annabeth took every chance she could to remind him of their awkward moments.

“What did you say, though? Did you mention your pet crocodile again?”

“First of all,” Luke retorted, “It was a spider. It was not a crocodile. And someone set him free! I really liked him too. And, I only asked her about her soulmate.”

“You’re an idiot.” Annabeth deadpanned, “Why would you ask that? Can’t you see that it’s a sore topic for her?”

“Not everybody is blessed with your wits, kid.” Luke playfully ruffled Annabeth’s hair while she huffed in frustration.

She quickly swatted his hands away. “What’s if she’s your soulmate?” Annabeth blurted out. “She doesn’t have a soulmate. You don’t have one. At least, you don’t have the common signs. What if that’s your soulmate bond?”

Luke chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way.”

“Maybe not… but either way, she’s still staring at you.”

Luke had never turned his head so fast. Y/N was perched on her cabin porch, leaning against the pretty wooden railing. And just as Annabeth had said, she was looking at him.

“Soulmate bond.” Annabeth repeated in that annoying singsong voice of hers.

Even as Luke walked back to the Hermes building, he couldn’t shake Annabeth’s words. Was Y/N really his soulmate? The person he had spent his entire life searching for?

Maybe. Standing next to her just felt so… right. He knew the moment he saw Y/N step out of her cabin that she’d have his unwavering attention.

Months passed by like seconds and years passed like days. Luke found himself becoming an expert at wielding a sword and not even Clarisse could disarm him. Y/N never bothered to try, always wanting to keep her appearance pristine under the hot sun.

“Do you ever get bored just lying around?” Luke questioned as he stood in front of Y/N. She was lying down under a large tree, enjoying the cool shade.

“No.” Y/N answered, closing her eyes. “I just don’t find it fun swinging around a sword in the hot sun.” The heat from the large star was unbearable during summer. Y/N hated the feeling of her clothes sticking to her skin so she was commonly found under trees during the hottest season.

“Why not try swinging around a sword at night? It’s cooler at that time.”

“I’m good.” Y/N truely was a daughter of Aphrodite, caring about her appearance above all else.

“I heard Silena found her soulmate.” Luke uttered as he sat down, keeping his distance in case Y/N didn’t appreciate his company. But she said nothing so he assumed it was fine.

“Yeah. At least he’s nice. I’d hate for her to have an annoying soulmate.” Y/N laughed yet that familiar look of envy and sadness flashed across her eyes. Y/N did well in concealing her facial expressions but her gaze never lied.

Luke and Y/N were seventeen now, almost eighteen. They had known each other for years and Luke had managed to notice some of Y/N’s subtle habits.

He also knew her opinion on soulmates. She craved for one and found the courage to despise her mother for her lack love. She prayed for one when offering a sacrifice. She dreamed of finding her other half and every time she woke up, she was disappointed that it wasn’t a reality.

Y/N knew there was more to life than relationships but why didn’t she have a soulmate? That was a query only Aphrodite herself could answer.

“Still no soulmate for you I suppose?” Y/N asked, glancing at Luke who shook his head.

“The main reason I was looking for you was because I had some sort of… theory.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, suddenly curious. She gestured for Luke to continue.

“I don’t have a soulmate mark. You don’t have one either. What if, in a way, our lack of soulmate marks is our bond? If that makes sense.” Luke almost stumbled over his own words, suddenly feeling far too nervous.

“You think… I’m your soulmate?” Those words felt foreign as they slipped past Y/N’s lips. She was staring at Luke in slightly disbelief. “I don’t know, Luke. Maybe we just don’t have soulmates.” Y/N chuckled at the end of her sentence.

Luke’s breath nervously shuddered. “Okay… so if we don’t have soulmates then I can like anybody I want?”

“Technically, yeah.” Y/N aimlessly shrugged.

“Then I chose you.”

Y/N stared at him with her eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why me?”

“Because why not? I’m not taking pity on you, Y/N. I genuinely like you. As more than just a friend. The moment I saw you, I knew that if I had a soulmate, I would want it to be you. We can take it slow if you want. I don’t care as long as I’m with you.”

Y/N could only muster up a nod, still in shock.

She didn’t know what she was expecting to happen after her indirect acceptation to his confession but finding a small bouquet of roses on her bed was not what she had in mind.

“Oh, those are pretty. Who are those from?” Silena was at Y/N’s side in an instance, curious to see the flowers.

“Luke.” Y/N muttered as she flipped over the card, staring at the messy handwriting that was undeniably Luke’s.

“So my manifestation did work!” Silena exclaimed, happily clapping her hands together. “I’ve been shipping you guys since, like, forever! And I knew you wouldn’t make a move so I manifested Luke to.” Silena proudly beamed as she rocked back in forth on her heels, “I’m so happy for you two!”

Drew, on the other hand, was not.

“Cute pity bouquet, Y/N.” The ravenette said as she waltzed into the cabin.

“I will slap you with the thorns.” Y/N fired back.

At dinner, Y/N ended up sandwiched between Silena and Drew. For two girls who seemingly hated each other, Y/N and Drew sure spent a lot of time together.

“Here comes your lover boy.” Silena teased as she watched Luke guide a new camper towards the Hermes table. Y/N wasn’t sure if she should stare or look away but Luke was already locking eyes with her, smiling so widely that you’d think his deepest wish just came true.

“He’s not your soulmate.” Drew uttered.

“I know. We don’t all have to follow the rules of soulmates, do we? You should know that better than anyone else.”

Drew scoffed, angrily stabbing her fork into a piece of meat.

Y/N didn’t eat much. Her stomach felt too queasy whenever Luke so much as glanced at her. Was she nervous? Her leg was continuously bouncing up and down so she must be.

She left the pavilion early, expecting Luke to follow after her and feeling proud of her guess when he did. “Did you like the flowers?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Of course.” Y/N answered.

“I really like you, Y/N. Please, just give me a chance. Who cares about soulmates? You may as well be mine.” Luke engulfed Y/N into a tight hug, his hands resting at her waist and refusing to let go.

“I don’t know, Luke.” She whispered. She had spent so much time alone in the dark that she forgot what love even felt like. Was it the butterflies in her stomach? Or perhaps the loud pounding of her heart? Or maybe her cheeks that were flushed a bright pink hue under the moonlight?

All her worries seemed to effortlessly melt away as Luke suddenly kissed her. He stepped back just as quickly but Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her again.

She wasn’t sure what was happening but she could feel small beads of tears roll down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying, pretty?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. Y/N swiftly wiped her tears away. As stupid and it sounded, that was her first kiss. And it was the first time someone showed a genuine interest in her, someone without a soulmate.

“If we do this, Luke… you have to promise not to leave me too quickly.” Y/N whispered so that only he could hear her voice.

“I don’t want my soulmate, if they even exist, Y/N. I want you.”

Those words echoed in Y/N’s head. I want you. Those three simple words set off fireworks in Y/N’s stomach. She felt her heart skip a beat.

She really shouldn’t have indulged in her own feelings when Luke might have a soulmate of his own but she couldn’t resist him when he was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes.

After that fated night, Luke rarely left Y/N’s side. He seemed to be attached at her hip and even when Clarisse laughed at him, he ignored her. Y/N was happy for a while.

It was the new girl that caused her fragile relationship with Luke to shatter into pieces. She really should have seen all this coming. She always noticed the bruises that lingered on Luke’s skin. Bruises that weren’t his but ones he simply brushed off as small injuries from all his hard training.

Y/N was the first to walk out of her cabin and, by default, that meant she would be showing the new camper around.

She had arrived early in the morning and while she was supposed to be resting in the infirmary, Y/N found her under the tree she usually sat at.

“You should be resting.” Y/N uttered. She could only see one side of the girl’s face but nevertheless, she was still pretty. Dyed blonde hair with heavy bangs framing her delicate and pale face and light grey eyes that nervously shifted from the ground to Y/N.

“They kept pestering me about my scar.” She mumbled, refusing to show Y/N her full face. “It’s my soulmate mark but they kept saying it wasn’t. Apparently… my soulmate has already found someone.”

She finally turned her head to reveal the scar. It was a jagged line, perfectly mimicking Luke’s. Y/N stiffened as the dread began to set in. She felt like she was going to collapse. Luke always preached about choosing Y/N over fate but would he do so now that his soulmate was here?

“Right.” Y/N choked out. “Well, let me show you around first.” It took all her energy to hide her true feelings. She didn’t want this girl to know that she was slowly but surely cracking under the pressure.

“I’m Lila, by the way.” The blonde muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Y/N.”

As usual, she saved the strawberry fields for last. Lila seemed impressed by the big, red berries that the Demeter kids had grown. “One last stop.” Y/N said as she led Lila to a certain cabin. She knew she would come to regret this but the matching scars weren’t exactly subtle.

Y/N knocked on the door and just as she hoped, yet dreaded, Luke answered. “Hey.” He grinned widely at her as he leaned against the door frame.

“Someone’s here for you.” Y/N stepped aside to reveal Lila. Luke paused before he chuckled.

“This is a joke, right? Y/N?”

But she was already walking, more like jogging, away.

Y/N watched from afar as Luke conversed with the girl who had the identical scar to his. It trailed over the same eye too and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize what that meant. Luke had finally met his soulmate.

And Y/N was alone. Again.

The favourite child of Aphrodite. The golden star. The beautiful role model.

She was always destined to spend her life alone and perhaps she should have fully accepted that instead of falling in love with Luke, someone she couldn’t have no matter how hard she tried.

She ended up skipping breakfast and merely sitting in front of the vanity mirror, soullessly staring at her reflection. She wanted nothing more than for an ugly scar to taint her pretty face just so she could claim Luke as her soulmate.

She traced a faint line over her eye with light brown eyebrow and imagined that it matched with Luke’s. That, in another life, she could finally call someone hers.

The cabin door opened. Y/N didn’t have enough time to wipe the eyeshadow scar off before Drew walked in. The black-haired girl made an immediate beeline for her half-sister. Y/N thought Drew was going to taunt her as usual but she was shocked when the cruel girl hugged her instead.

“Soulmate or not,” Drew whispered, “He should choose you.”

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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the perfect dad | lewis hamilton

warnings: child loss, depression, online hate (if these topics are sensitive to you, please don’t read, your health is much more important!!)

The day Y/n and Lewis met, it felt magical, those were her exact words. It was 2008, a year after his F1 debut. Y/n, at the time, didn’t know anything about the sport other than the cars go really fast and there’s a world champion every year. She worked as a presenter alongside Natalie Pinkham. It took one interview for Lewis Hamilton to fall in love with Y/n L/n. After their interview, Lewis asked her out and from then on, they were named the paddock’s it couple.

Their relationship was made public after Lewis won his first championship and kissed Y/n on live tv. It became a regular occurrence for them. After every race win, Lewis would be interviewed by his girlfriend and interrupt her for a kiss.

The year was 2011 and after three years of dating, Lewis had proposed to Y/n and of course she said yes. The wedding was small with only close family and friends attending. Their perfect family was slowly forming and that’s all they could ever hope for.

Five months after the wedding, Y/n and Lewis found out the incredible news. They were going to be parents to a little boy or girl. Lewis immediately started buying baby related items and asked his father and brother for help on the nursery even if Y/n had no visible bump yet.

“We’re going to be parents!” Lewis kissed Y/n’s lips as he held the pregnancy test in his hands.

“The baby is going to be so loved.” Y/n smiled.

Everything was going perfectly fine. Y/n and Lewis went to all the checkups, Y/n read any books in order to prepare while Lewis dealt with baby proofing their entire house. They were more than ready for Baby Hamilton.

When the day finally came, Y/n was scared. She held onto Lewis’ hand tightly as the doctors and nurses motivated her to push. Her body ached and sweat began to form on her face.

“You can do this, love, you’re the strongest woman I know. Think about our little baby. They’ll be here soon.” Lewis whispered in her ear then gave her a kiss.

“Lew, I’m tired.” Y/n replied, breathing heavily.

“I know and I’m so sorry I can’t take your pain away. You can do this, Y/n, just a few more pushes.” Lewis said.

It felt like forever, but Baby Hamilton had finally arrived, the only problem was that neither Y/n or Lewis heard any baby cries. Y/n looked over at Lewis, who was just as confused as his wife.

“Where’s our baby, Lewis? I can’t hear them.” Y/n started to sit up, but the nurses told her calm down and sit back down. “No, I want my baby. Where are you taking them?”

Lewis instantly knew what had happened. Baby Hamilton didn’t even take their first breath. Lewis took his wife into his arms and let her cry as the doctors took their baby away.

“Our baby. . .” Y/n sobbed as Lewis held her. His heart had broken into millions of pieces. Why did it have to happen to him and Y/n?

For six months, Y/n stayed in her and Lewis’ room. She became a stranger. She skipped out races making the media believe that her and Lewis had divorced. Everytime a friend or family member reached out to her, she would push them away. Lewis tried his hardest to talk to her, but she would either kick him out of their room or leave the house then return an hour later.

It was supposed to be Baby Hamilton’s seventh month when Lewis finally got Y/n out of the house. Y/n had apologized to her husband for pushing him away when they were both grieving the loss of their baby.

“Baby Hamilton is with us always.” Lewis showed Y/n a tattoo that he had recently gotten last weekend. It was Baby Hamilton’s birth date along with a tiny heart. The tattoo was on his wrist so whenever he missed his child, which was often, he looked down at the ink and remember them.

“I love you, Lewis.”

After their talk, Y/n and Lewis got changed and dressed to go out to a restaurant to eat. It wasn’t one of those fancy ones that Lewis took Y/n whenever it was an birthday or anniversary or just because he felt like it. It was a small restaurant that sold vegan food that both Lewis and Y/n loved so much.

“Taste this,” Y/n held up her sandwich for Lewis to taste. He took one bite and stole the sandwich from Y/n’s hands. “Hey! You ordered the wrap!”

“But this one tastes good too! I’ll order you another one, love.” Lewis got up and walked to the counter to order another sandwich. While he was gone, Y/n could hear camera clicks and saw flashing lights from the corner of her eye. Paparazzi had found them. Of course every celebrity hated paparazzi, but Y/n absolutely despised them.

She felt uncomfortable as her body had obviously changed from the pregnancy and from her not taking good care of it after. She tried to ignore it, but soon some paparazzi had yelled out her name. It was impossible to ignore now.

“Y/n! You look different! Tell Lewis to order you more food, you look skinny!”

That was all it took for her to start crying.

When Lewis returned, he saw the paparazzi outside. “Let’s go home, come on.” He said and took off his hoodie. He gave the hoodie to Y/n and as she put it on, he asked a waiter for boxes to take their food home. “Ignore them, we’ll be home soon.”

As they left the restaurant, the paparazzi got more pictures of Y/n hiding her face from the camera. It was clear that she had lost tons of weight after the pregnancy. As Lewis opened the car door for her, a man called out for Y/n once again.

“Mate, fuck off.” Lewis said and walked to his side of the car. On their way home, Y/n ranted to Lewis about how the paparazzi makes her feel and him being the best husband, he listened to every word she had to say.

When they arrived home, Y/n walked into the house, Lewis slowly followed her. He was picturing them coming home from lunch of dinner with Baby Hamilton in a stroller. That was his version of a great day.

“It’s too quiet here, Lew. I don’t like it.” Y/n sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Lewis grabbed her hand and together they walked to their shared bedroom. Baby Hamilton’s nursery was right across from their bedroom. It remained untouched ever since Lewis and his father finished painting the walls and installing the furniture.

“We are going to get through this, Lewis Hamilton. I know we are.” Y/n faced her husband.

A new year came and so did new changes. Y/n still remained with returned back to work with Sky Sports F1 and Lewis was still with Mercerdes. After every race, Lewis would look down at his wrist and see the date that belonged to Baby Hamilton.

“Well Lewis, it’s been a hectic week for you, where to start, but firstly I want to ask about something the fans noticed you’ve been doing at every race and that is you kiss your wrist before getting into your car. Is there any meaning behind that?” A lady from ESPN asked him during the Monza Grand Prix.

“There is a meaning and it’s something only my wife and I know about. It’s something to represent that my child, who is now looking down at me, is always with me. It’s to represent that no matter what, I’m always going to be their dad.” Lewis proudly stated.

Y/n watched from a tv inside the Mercedes hospitality as her husband was being interviewed. The couple had talked about announcing Baby Hamilton before since during the pregnancy, no one other than close friends and family knew. Lewis wanted to make sure Y/n was okay with announcing it before anything else.

After Lewis was done with his interview, the tv changed to another interview happening live. Y/n knew it would be a while before Lewis returned so she went onto twitter to distract her mind, which was the wrong move.

Her name was trending after the paparazzi photos of her and Lewis were finally posted. Mean twitter users were pointing out how skinny and tired she looked.

formula1facts this is hamilton’s wife?😂

paddockinsider someone give her a burger

lolurnotmichaelschumacher Lewis finds her attractive?? get this man glasses or something

Her mentions were all about her body. Every single one of them were how she had changed. Without thinking, she went to her settings and pressed the ‘delete account’ option.

Y/n and Lewis continued with their lives, occasionally having breakdowns when they remembered how their child was taken from them too soon. But that didn’t mean Y/n and Lewis stopped calling themselves parents. They were still a mom and a dad, their child was just waiting for them in the sky.

One day, Lewis had the bright idea to bring up a solution to the quietness in their house. A dog. The couple was laying in bed in a hotel since the Singapore Grand Prix was just a few days away.

“A dog? Are you sure we’re ready to have a dog? We travel like crazy and who would take care of them when you and I can’t?” Y/n asked.

“Dad could or we could just bring them on the road with us. Everyone loves dogs.” Lewis said.

“Something tells me you already have one in mind. Did you adopt a dog and didn’t tell me?” Y/n chuckled.

“Not really. But I can ask around.”

Lewis did just that. Eventually he did find the perfect dog for him and his wife. After the 2013 season ended, Lewis took a well needed vacation with Y/n where he would surprise her with their dog. When Y/n met the dog, she was in love.

“What their name?” Y/n asked as she scratched the dog’s belly.

“Roscoe.”

Roscoe became a family member. He wasn’t ‘just a dog’. He traveled with Lewis and Y/n, ate with them, slept on their bed. He was their second child. A few months after adopting Roscoe, Coco came into their lives. Both Y/n and Lewis treated the dogs as if they were their own kids because in a way, they were.

Often Lewis would show Roscoe and Coco the ultrasound pictures of Baby Hamilton and would tell them how excited he was to be a dad. Y/n would smile so much as how Lewis talked to their dogs. It didn’t matter if they were a dog or an actual baby, Lewis Hamilton was the perfect dad.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton #lh44 #mercedes amg petronas #f1 #dad!lewis hamilton

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands.

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact.

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks.

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you.

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying.

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle.

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage.

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him.

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed.

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes.

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.”

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool.

"Wait! What are you doing!"

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?"

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink.

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?”

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm.

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch.

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink.

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes.

“Oh… It got dirty.”

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.”

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete.

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon.

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see. A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be.

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city.

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note.

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his.

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.”

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead.

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery.

“You liked the attention.”

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.”

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books.

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money.

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with.

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.”

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago.

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so.

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you.

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle.

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window.

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’ bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business.

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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candycandy00 · 6 months

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The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Oral sex. Fingering. Divider by @benkeibear!

Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a crippling fear of men. Your father died when you were so small, you have no memories of him. You have no brothers, no uncles you’ve ever met, and you don’t even remember playing with any boy cousins as a child. Throughout your education, you only went to all girl schools. Otherwise, you’ve avoided going out in public as much as possible.

As a child, your older sister told you scary stories about men being brutish monsters who only wanted to hurt girls. Looking back, you understand now that she was only teasing you. But those stories combined with the fact that you’ve never even had a full conversation with a man before has left you with quite the phobia.

Even though you’ve watched movies and tv shows and seen men in that context, you’re still afraid of them. The fact that you find lots of fictional men attractive only confuses your emotions even more. You’ve spent years watching animated shows with men way too handsome to ever be real, developing crushes on them because they felt safe.

And your favorite, the one you’ve always been in love with despite him being made of ink and paper, is Prince Sebastian. In the cartoon, he’s a tall, muscular, blonde prince who is always a perfect gentleman to the women around him, always there to protect them from danger. Despite being an adult now, you still have a poster hanging on your bedroom wall featuring him.

Now, you find yourself standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, waiting to meet your trainer. How did it come to this? Just yesterday you were cooped up in your room, playing video games. Then this morning, your aunt who raised you and your sister stormed into your room and announced that she was selling you to the Doll House. You thought she was joking at first. What she was saying was unthinkable! She was rich! She didn’t need the money! Sure, she’s been complaining a lot lately about you staying in your room all day, but you didn’t think she was this angry!

You screamed, you cried, you made quite the scene. But then she told you that if you refused to sign the contract, she was kicking you out of her house and completely cutting you off. So you could live in a nice house with a rich man, or you could live under a bridge. To you, both options were terrifying. But one was slightly worse.

If you live under a bridge, how would you watch your favorite shows or play your games? And who knows how many unsavory men would approach you? Dealing with one man would be much better. Or so you’ve been telling yourself since you got here. But… now that you’re here, and there’s a strange man on his way to get you and do unspeakable things to you… you can’t do it!

You make a run for it, even though you’ve already signed the contract and met the owner, even though your aunt dropped you off and told you not to come back, you run out of the welcome room and into the front lobby, toward the exit. But just before you reach the door, you hear footsteps and voices behind you. One of them sounds like the owner, calling out your name. You’re so startled that you trip and crash to the floor, pulling off a perfectly humiliating face plant.

For a moment, you just lie there, feeling stunned and defeated, the adrenaline that fueled your brief escape attempt all gone. Tears sting your eyes as you begin to cry, hiccuping pathetically as your shoulders shake.

“Are you alright, miss?”

At the sound of a male voice, your body freezes up in terror. You turn your head to the side so you can look up. A man is squatting down beside you, holding out his hand.

“Let me help you up,” he says in a soft voice.

You blink away your tears as you stare at his face, and you realize something that momentarily shocks the fear right out of you. He looks exactly like Prince Sebastian! That blonde hair, those kind eyes, that muscular shape! It’s like the character just walked out of the tv! You never thought a real flesh and blood man could ever be as beautiful as Prince Sebastian, yet here he was!

Still stunned, you take his offered hand and allow him to gently pull you up. It’s the first time you remember actually touching a man.

He hands you a white handkerchief, spotlessly clean, and you use it to wipe your eyes. “Thanks,” you mumble, reaching the handkerchief back to him.

“My name is Nanami Kento. I’m your trainer,” he says, and you can’t help staring at him. He’s your trainer? Prince Sebastian? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. But no, you can’t let your guard down! He might be ridiculously handsome, but he’s still a man!

You introduce yourself in a small, quivering voice. He nods and then calls over the lady working behind the front counter. “Can you take her to my room, please? And make sure she has whatever she needs.”

The lady smiles and nods, then heads back toward the welcome room. “Follow me. We’ll grab your suitcase on the way!”

Numbly, you follow after her.

************************

Nanami waits until his new doll has left the room, then turns to the owner. “When you said she has a fear of men, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he says, sighing. “So what’s going on? You normally don’t accept dolls who were clearly forced or coerced into signing the contract. She obviously doesn’t want to be a doll.”

The owner gives a sigh of her own. “Her aunt came and spoke to me yesterday. Apparently she threatened to throw the girl out if she didn’t sign.”

“Coercion,” Nanami says. “Despicable. So why did you accept?”

The owner looks him in the eye. “The aunt said that if I didn’t take the girl, they were going to sell her on the direct market. You know how things work there. It would be like tossing that girl into a lion’s den blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back.” The owner pauses and sighs again. “I thought that if she’s trained by someone like you, at least it would be like tossing her in there with a sword and a shield. At least she’d have a fighting chance.”

She has a point. The whole situation leavrs a bad taste in Nanami’s mouth though. “So why is she afraid of men? Any past trauma I should be aware of?”

“None,” the owner says. “She’s just never been around men in her whole life. No male relatives. Went to all girl schools.”

“Hmm.”

“And Nanami,” the owner adds, her voice dropping a bit lower, “I know you’re not going to like this, but you’ll have to deflower her. Ordinarily I’d keep her a virgin and charge a premium for her, but in this case I think sending her out so unprepared would be exceedingly cruel.”

He looks toward the door the poor doll had disappeared through. “Only if she agrees to it.”

The owner nods. “Of course. Oh, and stay sharp. There’s something off about this whole thing. Her aunt is wealthy, and she even took half what I would usually offer. She seemed really determined to have the girl trained here. There might be something else going on.”

Nanami looks at the owner. “A punishment perhaps?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. But the contract was signed so we’ll see where this goes.”

*********************

Inside your trainer’s room, you find the place impeccably neat and orderly. There’s a large bookshelf filled with difficult-looking tomes, though you do spot a few fantasy novels you’ve read yourself. The bed is so smoothly made that you wonder if he even sleeps in it. The dresser has several bottles of expensive-looking cologne, and a peek in the closet reveals a wardrobe of stylish, fancy clothes in brands even you, who grew up in a wealthy family, haven’t heard of. They’re probably brands that focus on menswear, something you would be clueless about.

The lady from the front desk sits your suitcase on the floor beside the closet and smiles at you. “You hit the jackpot, miss. Nanami is an excellent trainer.”

“He is?” you ask, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

The lady laughs. “Let’s just say that if I had to pick one of the trainers to be mine, I’d pick him in a heartbeat. He’s respectful and kind, and not to mention handsome. The dolls he trains are always sad to leave!”

That made you feel a little better, and you were grateful to her for trying to put you at ease. “Thanks for telling me,” you say. “That’s really good to know.”

She smiles and nods and leaves the room, and it only takes a few moments for your anxiety to return. Your trainer will be coming in here any minute. He’ll probably make you strip! He’ll make you touch him! He’ll touch you! Even if he’s gorgeous, you can’t handle that!

You hurry over to the lone window in his room. It overlooks the back parking lot. You push the window up, opening it, and lean out to look down. The Doll House’s structure is elevated a several feet off the ground, but it’s still only one story. The drop doesn’t look too bad. You sling one leg out over the ledge, leaving you straddling the window. Just then, the door opens, and your trainer walks in.

It only takes him a moment to assess the situation and realize what you’re doing. He rushes toward you, and in a panic you try to jump out, but your other foot catches on the window sill. You fall at a strange angle, reflexively reaching out with one hand to grab the ledge, screaming as you do. Your trainer is quick to action, lunging forward and grabbing your arm.

Nanami pulls you back in through the window, and the two of you fall to the carpeted floor, you on top of him. Did he purposely turn so that his body would shield you from the fall? His strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you firmly but gently. You look up at him, and he seems upset. You let out a squeak of terror and scurry away from him, backing into the wall, still sitting on the floor.

He stands up and dusts himself off. Oh no! Did his fancy clothes get dirty? Is he mad now? He looks at you with a strange expression. Something between exasperation and concern. “Before you hurt yourself trying to escape,” he begins, walking over to a polished shelf and pouring what looks like water into a glass, “why don’t we talk?” He steps over and hands you the glass. You take it, then sip the water.

“Okay,” you say, feeling stupid now as you tuck your knees under yourself.

“Let’s go over a few things,” he says. “First of all, I’m not going to hurt you. If there’s any pain involved in what we do, it will be thoroughly discussed and agreed upon beforehand. I’ll respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything that you don’t consent to.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. You start to relax just a little.

“That being said, the more training you receive while you’re here, the easier things will be for you when you’re purchased,” he says. “I’m not here to make you miserable. I’m here to prepare you for the next ten years. It would be to your benefit to experience as many things as possible here, with me, in an environment where your wishes are respected, before you end up with an owner who might not be so patient.”

You know what he’s saying. “You mean, I should have s-sex with you.”

He nods. “That would be my recommendation, yes. But I won’t force you to do anything. It has to be your decision, and you don’t have to decide right away. For now, why don’t we start with something simple, like letting me help you up?”

He extends his hand to you, for the second time today. Earlier, you were so stunned by his resemblance to Prince Sebastian that you took his hand easily. Now, you hesitate, staring at him for a moment before reaching up and letting his large, warm hand envelope yours. He pulls you to your feet, and you end up standing so close you can see his face more clearly than ever. Ahhh, he really is incredibly handsome!

“Now, is there anything else you’d like to try?”

You blink. “Right now?”

“If you want. Or we can wait until you’ve had more time to adjust.”

You think for a while. His muscular frame looks so inviting. You’re not sure how much you can handle, but you want to try.

“Would a hug be okay?”

He seems a little surprised, but he smiles softly at you. “Sure,” he says, before slowly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. It actually feels really nice! And he smells so good! For a brief time, you almost want him to make love to you right then and there. Your brain is filled with thoughts of him picking you up and carrying you to his bed, of him taking charge, pulling off your clothes, having his way with you. The thoughts leave you blushing, and you pull away.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you tell him as he gestures for you to sit in a plush chair beside a table.

“When the training begins, there will be some rules,” he says, sitting down in a matching chair on the other side of the table. “You are to refer to me as ‘Daddy’ at all times. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. But, as I said, that’s something we can discuss and ease you into.”

You feel your heart pounding rapidly. Calling him Daddy? Punishment? It sounds terrifying, but also strangely hot. You’ve watched porn before, so you know a little about daddy kinks. You’ve always been kinda turned on when the man calls the woman “good girl”. You just never imagined, in your wildest dreams or nightmares, that you would end up in a situation like that. When you watched porn, it always felt distant, like something happening in another world. You’ve even masturbated to it, still never once imagining yourself in those positions. Men in “real life” were far too scary.

“I’m going to leave the ball in your court,” he says. “You can tell me when you’re ready to officially start the training. Until then, I’ll keep a respectable distance and let you get accustomed to being here.”

His words are very reassuring. You can feel your anxiety beginning to melt away. Maybe, just maybe, you can get over your fear with a gentleman like him.

That night, Nanami sleeps on a borrowed futon on the floor, giving you the bed. You feel terrible about that, but also relieved. While a small part of you was excited by the prospect of sharing a bed with him, a much bigger part was scared out of your mind to be in such close proximity to a man all night long.

For three days, nothing really happens between you and your trainer. You do feel slightly more comfortable with him, sharing a room and a bathroom will do that, but aside from a couple more hugs and some accidental brushing of elbows, he hasn’t touched you. Deep down, you’re a little disappointed by that.

You accompany him to the dining hall for meals, and you’ve met the other trainers. Most of them stay away from you, even as Nanami introduces them. You figure he’s informed them of your phobia. Just one of them occasionally comes a little closer than you’re comfortable with: the one named Gojo. He’s friendly and not at all threatening, but he’s still a man. So when he stops by the table you’re sitting at with Nanami, you can’t help sliding away from him a little, which results in you sliding closer to your trainer.

On your fourth day at the Doll House, you come to a decision. It’s time to face your fears and begin the training!

You wait until after dinner to tell Nanami. He’s standing at his dresser, loosening his tie in a way that makes you extremely weak. He occasionally makes polite conversation with you, but oftentimes he simply reads for a while before showering and going to sleep on the futon. Tonight, you approach him at the dresser.

“Um, I think I’m ready to start now,” you say, your voice a bit shaky despite your best efforts to stay calm.

He turns and looks at you. “Are you certain?”

You nod. “As certain as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright, then we need to discuss a few things.”

You feel yourself droop. You’ve hyped yourself up for some wild sexy times, but now you have to talk first? You really hope this conversation doesn’t get too awkward.

“First of all, you should choose a safe word. Are you familiar with that term?” he asks.

You are, or rather you’ve heard it used in porn or the smutty stories you read online, but you’re too embarrassed to admit that. “Not really,” you say.

“You choose a word or short phrase that wouldn’t normally be used in the bedroom, and whenever you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. If you’re genuinely afraid or something hurts or just makes you uncomfortable, say the safe word. We’ll stop immediately and only resume once you’re comfortable again.”

“Okay. How about… snowcone?” you ask.

“Snowcone? That’s fine. Don’t forget it,” he says.

“I won’t.”

“Now, part of my training involves light punishment for bad behavior. Mostly spankings, hair pulling, and things of that nature. Nothing that’s going to seriously hurt. Is that something you can handle?”

You suspected as much, but hearing him say it out loud, in that smooth voice of his, makes you feel dizzy. The thought of being spanked by this man as he calls you a bad girl turns you on way more than you expected. It also scares you. A man! Touching you! But you beat back down the panic that’s threatening to undermine your decision and nod. “I think so. I want to try at least.”

He walks over to his bed and sits down. His legs are spread apart as he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt and then runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, leaving it a little bit messy with a few strands hanging over one eye. He gives you a look that nearly makes you buckle, and says, “Come over here and show daddy what a good girl you can be.”

Your jaw nearly drops, your breath gets caught in your throat, and your only response is to say, “I’ll be right back!” and flee to the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you grab a fluffy towel from a shelf and press it to your face, using it to muffle a scream. Is it a scream of terror? Of excitement? Even you don’t know. You pant for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together.

He’s hot! He’s soooo hot!

But he’s a man!

He looks just like Prince Sebastian!

But he’s a man!

After several more deep breaths, you feel the panic subsiding. You can do this! You step out of the bathroom as if you’d simply powdered your nose and walk back over to Nanami. “Sorry, I just needed a moment,” you say, hoping he didn’t hear your garbled scream.

He gives you a small, amused smile. He definitely heard it! But he only says, “That’s fine. Take your time.”

Ahhh! He’s such a gentleman! You want him to do unspeakable things to you!

“C-can we start over?”

“Of course. I believe I told you to show me what a good girl you can be,” he said.

“Okay,” you say, feeling even more awkward than usual standing there in front of him. “How should I do that?”

He gives you another one of those sultry looks. “You can start by coming closer and getting on your knees.”

Oh shit. He wants you to suck him off! Can you do it? You’ve seen it done in porn countless times. Yes, you can do it! And after you’re done, maybe he’ll pat your head and call you a good girl! Ahhh! Just imagining it has your heart pounding!

You take the few steps needed to be directly in front of him, so close he could hug you if he wanted to. Then you get on your knees, right between his thighs. You glance up at him, unsure of what you should do next. Do you open his pants? Wait for him to do it? This is a daddy kink scenario, so maybe you can just mimic what you’ve seen and read online. You look up at him with wide eyes. “What do you want me to do, Daddy?”

There’s a flicker of surprise on his face, but then he leans back slightly on his hands and says, “I’ll let you decide. What do you think would make Daddy happiest right now?”

You hesitate for just a moment more, then reach up and unbuckle his belt. Your hands are trembling as you unbutton and unzip his pants. This is it! You’re going to see and touch a real man’s cock! You see his boxers when you open his pants, black and classy. With your heart hammering wildly in your chest, you grip the waistband and pull it down, under a dick that seems way bigger than it should be. But what would you know?

With one hand, you lightly wrap your fingers around the hard, hot organ. Feeling unsure, you gently move your hand up and down the length. It’s too dry! Isn’t it supposed to be slippery? Wait… maybe that’s why women in porn often lick or drool on it. You glance up at his face, and there’s no change in his expression. Should you just spit on it? But that doesn’t seem like a very “good girl” thing to do.

“Can I lick it, Daddy?”

“If you want to,” he answers.

Slowly, you lean forward and touch your tongue to the tip. You thought it would taste bad, but really there’s no taste at all. The only thing you detect is the pleasant scent of bodywash. Of course someone like him would keep himself immaculately clean. You move your tongue all around the tip, licking it the way you would a popsicle, then you move your tongue down the shaft, toward the base, trying to get it as wet as possible. You hear him exhale a breath, and your eyes dart up to his face. He looks like he’s enjoying this!

You feel his hand in your hair, and then all at once he’s got most of it gathered in his grip, holding it firmly. It doesn’t hurt, but it does make you feel like he’s completely in control of this situation, and that in itself makes you wet.

“Take it in your mouth,” he says, his grip on your hair getting just a little tighter.

Eager to please him, you do as you’re told, letting him fill your mouth with his cock. It’s a scary feeling at first, as you adjust to breathing only through your nose and occasionally gagging around him when he slips a little too far down your throat. But somehow his hand pulling your hair is comforting. You realize you like being led.

He pushes your head up and down his length, slowly at first, gently. It’s more like he’s guiding you than forcing you. Gradually he ups the pace, going a bit deeper into your throat, which automatically constricts around him. By now your lips are covered in drool and the sticky fluid leaking from his tip, making them glide along the shaft easily.

After several minutes, you hear his voice again. “I’m going to cum,” he says, a very slight strain to his tone. “Don’t spill a drop.”

Before you can do anything to react to his words, his grip on your hair tightens as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat. You feel the warm cum shooting out, sliding directly down to your stomach. You swallowed it all without even getting the chance to taste it.

After he pulls out of your mouth, he gives you a few moments to catch your breath, then his hand releases your hair and rubs your head. “Good girl,” he says, and you think you might just faint.

The hand rubbing your head slides down your neck, your shoulder, and then grips your wrist. He pulls you to your feet, and then into his lap. You’re sitting on one of his muscular thighs as he deftly tucks his dick back into his pants with one hand. His other hand is holding you in place, the arm wrapped around you from behind.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a kind look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, surprised by how true that is.

“Then, since you’re being so good for Daddy, why don’t I reward you?” he says, his free hand slipping under your skirt, between your legs.

Your body jerks in surprise, and if he wasn’t holding you firmly in place, you probably would have tumbled out of his lap. His eyes are on your face, watching carefully, as his hand slowly slides down, inside the front of your panties. He’s taking his time, giving you ample opportunity to use the safe word. But you don’t, because despite the fear you’re currently feeling, you don’t want him to stop.

His fingers softly rub your most private place, gently parting the slick flesh, one finger quickly finding your clit. You gasp and clutch his arm, the sensations nearly overwhelming you.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, his voice close to your ear.

You nod your head, murmuring, “Mmhm.”

His fingers traces circles around your sensitive nub, then strokes it, making you release little mewling cries.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, almost in a whisper. “Use your words.”

“It feels… so good, Daddy! S-so so good! Nothing has ever felt so good!”

You suddenly wrap both arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. The pleasure is too intense! He’s way too good at this! His fingers never stop, even as you quiver in his grip, even when you cry out “Daddy!” as you cum, your whole body shaking.

While you’re still trembling through your orgasm, with his hand still in your panties, he says, “There’s another rule you need to be aware of. In my training, you have to earn pleasure by being a good girl. You’re not allowed to pleasure yourself. Do you understand?”

You nod against his shoulder, feeling too dazed to speak.

The hand that was holding you in place moves up to grip your hair and pull your head back so he can see your face. It’s not a harsh action, but a firm one. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you say, and he releases your hair, then smoothes it down gently.

“That’s my good girl.”

**********************

Nanami sits in a chair in his room, thumbing through a book he bought recently and sipping wine. His doll is fast asleep in his bed, exhausted from the intense training session.

He had made sure she was okay, physically and emotionally, before drawing a hot bath for her in his private bathroom and then later helping her into bed. They will be sharing the bed now that the training has begun, and she seemed okay with that before she fell asleep.

Nanami is actually quite surprised by her. He had guessed it would be at least a week before she would be willing to try any sort of training, but here she is on the fourth day, practically swallowing his cock. She’s facing her fears, and that’s admirable.

Though her escape attempts and nervous, terrified energy are exasperating, he also has to admit that he finds her amusing. Earlier, when she ran to the bathroom to scream, it was all he could do to hold back his laughter when she returned and acted as if nothing happened. She was definitely a strange one.

He closes the book and stands up to stretch. His mind is already full of plans for tomorrow, for the various training exercises he can try with her. He doesn’t want to push her too far and make her fear of men worse, but he also wants to make sure she’s fully prepared for her life as a doll. He’ll do all he can to help her, that much is certain.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #kento Nanami #Jjk x reader #x reader #jjk smut

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yandere-daydreams · 6 months

Text

Title: Undetered.

Continuation of Unrequited.

Pairing: Arlecchino x Reader x Furina (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Obnoxious Sapphic Pining, Lesbian Melodrama, and Spoilers for the Fontaine Story Quest. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

Truly, you were fortunate to have such a persistent suitor.

And, truly, Arlecchino was lucky to be so desperately in love with someone who so often left their windows unlocked.

Lady Furina – or, rather, Miss Furina now – might not have had the limitless means of an archon, but her manor was still sizable enough to leave convenient gaps between patrolling guards. Vaulting the stone gate was child’s play, climbing to the second floor a task that would’ve been easily passed off to one of her less capable subordinates, remaining unseen as she worked a dagger between the glass pane and its wooden frame until the mechanism gave and she could slip into your bedroom an art she’d perfected over decades of careful practice. She never expected to use her talents for a matter so personal, but still, expertise couldn’t be denied.

Although Furina’s burdens weren’t quite as heavy as an opera star as they’d been as an archon, you still took care of her affairs dutifully – ever the loyal companion despite your favored idol having been proved false. Even now, in the dead of night, you were chained to your desk, your fingertips stained with ink and your quill abused to the point of dullness. It took a moment for you to take notice of the draft, to straighten your back and glance blearily in her direction, but whatever exhaustion stole your attention from her seemed to disappear the moment you met her eyes. You scrambled to rise, to call for your guards, but she was already closing the distance between you, already trapping you against the edge of your desk, an arm caging you in on either side. Too breathless to spare a proper greeting, she took your hand in her own and held it to her chest. If she had a heartbeat, you might’ve been able to hear it racing. “My love, my light,” You opened your mouth, undoubtedly preparing one of the dismissive platitudes you so often offered her, but just this once, she refused herself the pleasure that was listening to your voice. Time was precious, tonight, and she couldn’t afford to be so indulgent. “I’m leaving for Snezhnaya at dawn, and I will only dare to ask this once—” She paused, forced herself to breath. “Come with me.”

Your eyes remained wide and horrified. “Lord Arlecchino.” And then, after a short lapse, “You’re in my bedroom.”

“If you must serve a god,” she went on, unfazed by your shock. “Then serve me. I know you think you’ve found a purpose in Furina, but there is nothing in the world she can give you that I can’t. There’s nothing she does for you that I’m not willing to.” She raised your hand to her mouth, her lips grazing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to love me. All I ask is to be able to pretend you might, one day.”

It was your turn to manage a ragged inhale, now, to draw yourself out of her hold with a quick shake of your head, a dry swallow. “You can’t—” You started towards the door, then thought better of it, taking to pacing as you glared daggers towards the carpeting. “You cannot be here. You have to leave, and you have to make sure no one sees you.”

“I’m not afraid of a few guards,” she cut in. “If I had to fight a thousand men for your hand, I’d draw my sword without a second thought.”

“You don’t understand. She thinks I don’t know, but—” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “She writes these— these fictions, and if she finds that you’ve broken into her estate in the middle of the night wearing—” You gestured vaguely to her, or more specifically, to the pitch-black bodysuit she usually wore to her less scrupulous encounters. “—that, I’ll have to travel far past Snezhnaya before I ever hear the end of it.”

With an airy chuckle, she found her way back to your side. As gently as she could, she took you by the arm, and when you failed to protest, drew you into a delicate embrace. “What are you afraid of, dear?”

You slackened against her chest. “I… I honestly don’t know how to explain it,” you admitted. “It’s just, ever since you first came to Fontaine, she’s been inf—”

This time, you were interrupted by the door to your bedroom slamming open, your mistress appearing above the threshold – already posed with one hand on her waist and the other curled around the handle of a mahogany cane, her eyes shut and her smile wide. “Teyvat’s brightest star has returned!” She declared herself with a turn on her heel – a dramatic flourish worthy of a retired archon. “You would not believe how well rehearsal went, there’s already a—”

Her eyes flickered op, and whatever she meant to tell you died on her tongue as her gaze fell onto Arlecchino. Immediately, you wrenched yourself out of Arlecchino’s arms, rushing towards Furina. “My lady, it’s not—"

“Save your excuses.” Her voice was low, her tone steely. Furina posed no threat to you, much less to her, but Arlecchino still had to temper the urge to step in front of you – if only out of some long buried, sickeningly knightly instinct. “I can see what’s going on.”

A beat passed in silence, then another. Ultimately, Arlecchino took it upon herself to break it. “…you can?”

“For exactly what it is.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, gasping sharply. “My greatest foe, here to use my closest confidant against me. I will not allow it! Whatever you plan to do with them – let me take their place. No matter what you plan to take – my mind, my soul, my body, I insist that you take it from me!”

Her rambling went on, but Arlecchino diverted her attention, sparing you a glance out of the corner of her eye. “She’s got a bit of a crush,” you whispered, smiling apologetically. “This is just how she behaves when she’s nervous.”

Arlecchino’s looked back to Furina. Upon closer examination, her cheeks were flushed, her movements erratic. As she described the torture she would go through for your sake in truly graphic and well-imagined detail, Arlecchino cleared her throat. “With as little respect as possible,” she cut in. “You’re not the one I’m here for, Furina.” She took up your hand, intertwining her fingers with your own and falling to one knee. You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest, content to let the gesture stand – if only for the sake of your mistress. “It’s your confidant who has my heart, despite how callous the hands I’ve entrusted it to may be.”

“But, my lady, my loyalty is with you.” For the first time, Arlecchino watched your expression wither. Your worry – not for your mistress’ safety, but purely for her happiness – would’ve been touching, if her selfishness hadn’t been the cause of your concern. “And… my love, as well. If you’d care to accept it.”

It was a pitiful confession, pale in comparison to even the meekest of hers, but it seemed to be enough. Furina took a moment to examine you, to evaluate Arlecchino where she kneeled. Slowly, she straightened herself, squaring her shoulders. “If that’s the case,” she began, finally, taking on an air that could be easily mistaken for dignified. “Then as the former sovereign of your nation and the mistress of this estate…”

She raised a hand, a near radiant grin painting itself across her lips as she encompassed you both in one sweeping gesture.

“I demand a threeway!”

#woman loving wednesday #on thursday #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #furina x reader #furina x you #furina x arlecchino #arlefuri #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x furina

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fan-goddess · 1 year

Note

Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*

Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)

Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One

—————

If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.

Alys’ death could’ve though.

When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.

He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.

That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.

Dear Aemond,

Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.

From, your wife

From your former wife

Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.

He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.

Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.

He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.

That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.

Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.

You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.

Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…

There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.

Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…

———

It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.

Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.

He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.

Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.

Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.

He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.

He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.

Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…

———

“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.

“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“

“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.

“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”

“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”

“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.

“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.

“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”

“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.

Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,

I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.

Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.

From, Aemond Targaryen

You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.

You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.

———

When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.

He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.

When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for

It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?

Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.

“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fic #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen #the death of a life au

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yukyuki · 7 days

Text

As Simple As That- LH’44

summary- It had been rumored that Lewis Hamilton was dating someone, but she was not famous nor “anyone special” but they don’t know what she means to Lewis. ❤️‍🔥

warnings- smut 🔞mdni!, age-gap, insecure reader, language, some grammar errors, slight aftercare, fluff ☁️, romantic Lewis

a/n- he is just the type to do this! ✨I know I’ve been gone for like the longest time so have a Lewis fic <3

You smiled softly looking at your finished curled hair swinging it gently styling it more. You put on your glossy lip oil you smiled at yourself in the mirror. All the sudden your phone rings and you grabbed it, you believed it had been a text from Carmen since you and her had planned a double date with your boyfriends. But no, apparently someone must have tagged you in their post, clicking on the notification you see pictures of you and Lewis. Lewis’ fans have seen you two around LA in the arcades and malls having cute dates. The cute pictures of both of you bring a smile to your face, there was one where you were playing basketball in the arcade, getting drinks while holding hands, him holding your bag and even both of you kissing. Your smile got bigger with each picture until you reach the section that Lewis had prohibited you from going, the comments.

comments

“Can’t believe THE LEWIS HAMILTON is dating a girl like her!”

“what’s so special about her? Isn’t she like years younger than him?”

“she probably wants the fame”

“she’s so ordinary and she’s honestly not that pretty”

“Lewis deserves so much better not a child!”

All those comments started to hurt your feelings really bad, even though you had promised yourself to not let anything like this hurt you, but they started to get into your head, setting your phone down on the bed you take a deep breath and stare at yourself in the mirror which you gasp quietly seeing Lewis already standing behind you.

You watched his eyes scan your body from behind, he looked at the dress hugging your waist down to the skirt that was loose yet he couldn’t help but go crazy for your body curves. Coming closer to you his ink covered hands land on your waist leaning to kiss your shoulder slowly resting his chin in your shoulder.

“you look so pretty my love, I think this is my new favorite dress on you” he whispered looking at you in admiration through the mirror. You give him a soft smile slowly resting your soft hands on his rough ones.

“Lew…do you…do you think I’m too ordinary or…a child… to be dating someone like you?” you asked making his eyes go wide as his embrace around you loosen slightly. He never thought you would be asking him something like that, to which he suddenly felt nervous and concerned as to what had made you ask that and what would happen.

“Y/n, sweetie where does that come from? You are an amazing girl, and I think I should be the one questioning myself as to why I’m with someone so perfect as you” he said smiling as you gently smile slowly shrugging your shoulders looking slowly towards your phone on your shared bed.

“No Lew, you’re right…I…sorry, I just…social media is such a horrible place” you say still looking at your phone slowly walking towards it grabbing it, it was left on and it was like hate towards you was trending.

Giving your phone slowly to him he saw the previous comments but started to scroll and the new ones just grew worse as he shook his head giving you a sign that he was angry, he wasn’t the type to yell or get aggressive when angry but from the time you’ve been together you’ve learned to see that anger through his eyes and knew exactly when he was mad.

Taking the phone back you sit on the bed, glancing at the screen.

comments

-she’s such a whore you guys she’s dated another driver before right?

-what!? she has??

-oh no wonder she’s after MY Lew

-she’s probably just his sex toy for the moment!

-he’ll leave her soon

He slowly kneeled down in front of you taking your phone away.

“Don’t you ever let those comments in your pretty head okay love…those people just have nothing to do…and they think that by doing this they might achieve something…those are not true fans loves, my actual fans loves you” he comforted you seeing tears starting to build up in your eyes. He quickly moved you on the bed and he laid next to you holding you close. Your head rested on his chest as his heart beat soothed you down as a tear rested on your cheek.

“I know love, I just…I don’t know I’m being hated on too much…what if those comments now get to you? and you leave me when you realize I’m not like other girls” you say softly as he moved propping himself on his elbow looking at you wiping your tear away with his thumb.

“baby of course you aren’t like other girls…you’re way beyond perfect in my eyes and that’s what matters, I’ve experienced those comments myself telling me I couldn’t achieve something and here I am…you my love you are too perfect you’ve become a target” he whispered kissing you softly.

“You’ve been my greatest supporter and been there through my lowest, we have never fought and when we do it only lasts 5 minutes or less, now you ordinary? baby you are extraordinary…you are not an extravagant girl you are definitely smart, you take care of me and show me your love in all the ways you probably can, you my love are as simple as that and I couldn’t ask for more” he said which ended in you being a crying mess you slowly wrap your arms around his neck hugging him tightly making sure to let him breathe you kiss his temple pulling away.

“I think I just fell in love with you again Lew” you say giggling through sobs wiping your tears.

“I fall in love with you every day baby” Lewis responded showing his teary white coming down to kiss you rubbing your sides. You smile at the feeling slowly rubbing his chest up to his face cupping it in your small hands. Your phone started ringing with more hateful DMs, Lewis head slowly turned about to reach for it as you slowly stopped him pushing your phone of the bed.

“I need to feel loved right now Lew” you whispered blushing pecking his lips.

He chuckled quietly at you as he nodded kissing your cheeks as his fingers slowly came in contact with the zipper to your dress.

“you know what I also love about you?” he asked you smiling softly seeing how your eyes started to sparkle and how your big eyes looked at him as you hummed waiting for his answer.

“our “alone time” it’s always filled with love and not forgetting how beautiful you look” he started making your cheeks start to redden as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“Lew” you whined giggling as he pulled your hands away gently kissing them softly.

“it’s true baby…you’re even perfect when we’re making love…your body, your actions, your sounds they are all so perfect to me” he whispered in your ear smiling as you squirm gently feeling embarrassed but so happy to have someone like Lewis to your side.

“can we…make love tonight?” you whispered to him slowly moving your hand up to his hair gently twirling one of his braids around your finger.

“we can watch the movie after, through my projector” you say making him chuckle as he now got shy. Even after years of being together till now your love making was always gentle in a way that he was never harsh with you, until this day he always made sure you could feel all his love.

As you kissed him slowly again you reach down to his shirt pulling it off as you kept it close feeling its warmth as your free hand rubbed his cheek feeling his beard against your soft palm he moved to hovered over you slowly unzip your dress as the kiss got more passionate.

“you lips are so perfect” he whispered through the kiss as your hands rubbed his strong arms giving him soft scratches sitting up slowly you take your dress off as his eyes admired your body you smiled at him as his finger slowly traced your forearms down to your hand pushing you back on the bed. His eyes couldn’t look away from the new lingerie set he saw you wearing, a black laced push up bra that made your boobs just more perfect to him.

“god see baby? you’re like a goddess…my goddess” he whispered kissing your neck down your collar bone to your cleavage as his hands moved to your thighs squeezing them. Moaning quietly at his touch you started to grow wet for him down on your core. You bit your lip watching how his hand made its way into your panting making you gasps as his cold rings touched your warm sensitive skin.

“Lew” you whispered rubbing his shoulders as he his hand reached behind you unclasping your bra pulling it off as it landed somewhere in the room.

As his mouth wrapped around your nipple his fingers started to tease your clit rubbing it gently with his thumb. His hand slowly moved reaching to your panties taking them off as your body got goosebumps from the chilly air hitting your core. Noticing he kissed your forehead pulling the sheet on you making sure you were warm.

Reaching down to his pants and boxers he let you unbutton them before he finished taking them off. In a few minutes you two were naked under the sheets kissing and touching each other before he pulled away turning you to your side.

Giggling quietly against his lips your turn comfortably as he laid next to you pulling your back against his chest.

“Lew…what are you doing?” you whispered blushing as he laid his arm under your head and lined up himself to your entrance.

“We can always try new things baby…is this okay?” he asked as you moved your hand back touching his cheek nodding slowly as your eyes closed slowly releasing a moan as he entered you, he went in gentle but deep like always yet the stretch he gave you was always amazing.

His free arm slowly hugged your waist as he also moaned quietly into your ear. Holding his hand softly your head fell on his other arm moaning his name louder.

“Lew…go faster baby” you whispered with eyes half closed as he did what you told him picking up the pace. You whined in pleasure once his skin was slapping against your as you sat up slowly moving his hand to your clit as he added pressure to your clit.

“oh fuck!” you screamed feeling a knot on your lower stomach throwing your head back, looking at the sweaty Lewis next to you, you placed a passionate kiss on his lips before moving away, getting on top of him sinking down on him. Groaning at the feeling and the sight of you was driving him crazy his hands resting on your ass as you moved up and down was enough to come for you there and then.

“god you’re so perfect…look at you” he whispered biting his lip pulling you down kissing you as you kept moaning moving your hips harder

“L-Lewis…I’m coming” you said as he nodded quickly admiring you, he was always ready for you. Placing butterfly kisses on your neck down to your collar bone you threw your head back releasing on him scratching his shoulders as he followed after a few seconds.

Wrapping your arms around his neck he held you close bringing you back down on the bed, kissing your cheek he pulled out of you.

“I’ll be right back my love” he whispered to you reaching his shirt giving it to you before pulling on his boxers going to the bathroom you couldn’t help but smile tiredly looking towards the bathroom waiting for your boyfriend to come back. After a few minutes he came back with a two towels.

Moving into the bed he slowly wiped your sweat off your forehead gently down to your neck, as he reached for the other one moving down, cleaning your part, you couldn’t help but blush. You were truly so lucky to have him. Wrapping your body in one of his silk sheets he joined you under the other covers and pulled you close to him in the same position you started with your head on his chest.

As he kept admiring you and sharing sweet kisses his phone rang which he reached for not letting his body leave yours.

“Hello?” he answered to which you remained quiet enjoying his heartbeat and his soft voice hugging his waist.

“Oh sorry mate, couldn’t tell you sooner something came up…yup last minute…I couldn’t ignore it” he said looking down at you smiling at his little lie which you tried to hide your giggle.

“yup yes definitely next weekend, enjoy you guys! have a good night” he said before hanging up.

“can’t believe I had to lie baby…I hope George believes it” he said softly rubbing your shoulder.

“I bet he will, he’s too distracted sometimes” you say snuggling closer to him, the rest of the night you remained in each other’s arms watching movies on your projector, eating popcorn and sharing touches and kisses. You both for sure were such a simple but cute couple and that night you proved again what you meant to Lewis.

#formula one #formula one social media au #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fluff

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randomgurl2326 · 4 months

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Slytherin Boys + Wifey Pansy + Y/N 3

Harry Potter Masterlist

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Mattheo: i have so much energy, I want to run a marathon or commit a crime… which should I do?

Pansy: please don’t get arrested

Mattheo: no promises!<3

Y/N: why not both? get creative!

Pansy: please don’t encourage him, Y/N

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Kidnapper: i have your child

Blaise: i dont have a child?

Kidnapper: then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crust off their sandwich?

Blaise: oh god, you have Draco

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Pansy: hey, what are you reading?

Blaise: this is my magic book where any ink spilled shows a scripture of the future, however it bears a curse making it broken, and as suck in order to make any scripture appears, I have to do it myself

Y/N: so it’s just a notebook?

Blaise: it’s just a notebook

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Theo: i’ve only ever said ‘i love you’ to two people in my entire life: Y/N and a guy in a dark club that i mistook for Y/N

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Blaise: you two are having sex!

Mattheo, not looking up from his book: really? Enzo, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down

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Blaise: what’s sexting?

Enzo: i’m not explaining this to you

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Draco, writing in his diary with a glitter gel pen: i’m losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. Salazar is dead. There’s blood on my hands

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Mattheo: the moon looks beautiful, doesn’t it?

Theo, looking at Mattheo: yeah… but do you know what’s more beautiful?

Mattheo and Theo in unison: *sighs* Y/N

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ofallthingsnasty · 26 days

Text

tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k

One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)

To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.

Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?

Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time. What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.

#i hope you can see where i'm going with law's part? he's such a little creeper... but also deeply traumatized... ugh #idk i hope this was coherrent it has been rotting away in my brain for 3 weeks now #yandere one piece #trafalgar law x reader #sanji x reader #crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #tw.yandere #/crocodile #/sanji #/doflamingo #/law #/one piece

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lexsssu · 5 months

Text

Soft (Vergil)

TAGS: Vergil/Dragoness!reader, smut, breeding, pregnancy, heats/ruts, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Moooooommm, my hair’s already okay as it is. You don’t have to keep grooming it!”

“Hush, darling. Mother knows best and if I say that your hair needs to be groomed then it means that it needs to be groomed. Now, stay still and let Mama fix you up~”

Nero grumbled and pouted, but simply allowed himself to become limp in your grasp as you combed his snowy locks for him, a bright red blush lighting up his cheeks that were yet another feature he’d inherited from his father. To be honest, Nero took mostly after Vergil in terms of looks, but he was definitely more expressive than your mate.

“...’m not a lil kid anymore…”

“Regardless of how old you are, you will always be a child in my eyes, Nero. I bore you into this world with my body and nothing can ever change the bond between a mother and her child” You smile and nuzzle the top of the young man’s head, inhaling his scent while bathing him in your own, draconic instincts, particularly your maternal ones, overflowing as you carried another babe within your belly.

“...Just let your mother be, Nero. Once your new sibling is born she won’t be babying you anymore,” said Vergil eloquently as he sat on his favorite armchair, reading through a well-worn poetry book and looking like painting straight out of a Victorian-era portrait.

“Your father is just teasing you. You’ll always be Mama’s darling boy~” You giggle and place a kiss on your son’s forehead, watching gleefully as his cheeks turn an even deeper red from your affections.

Though seemingly minding his own business, Vergil always had his eye on you both even as he read the ever so familiar words upon the inked pages. There is a softness in the blue of his eyes that is hidden from the world outside of your cozy little home.

A softness that is reserved only for you, his mate, and all your offspring...and maybe Dante when the devil hunter wasn’t being an absolute insufferable moron.

It’s amazing how meeting you had allowed him to see the world in a different light. To rediscover parts of himself that he’d long thought to have died off on the night his entire life had changed forever and molded him into a man fraught with only the ambition for power.

He could still remember that moment so clearly, as if it happened just yesterday...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you need some help? You looked like you had quite the fall from so high up…”

The eldest son of Sparda blinked, a rare look of incredulity on his normally impassive face as he stared at the small hand being held out to him and the young woman who owned it.

Mundus’ grotesque form lay upon the blood red ground, a mass of flesh with hundreds of hands sticking out of him that would have struck fear in the hearts of most living and undead creatures. However, the Prince of Darkness was obviously deceased as he lay immobile, gaping wounds and terrible gashes littering his foul body as if his opponent had just tore through him without mercy.

“...Do you know that thing? It kept yapping ever since I dropped in here kinda like how you did and well...I just wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the monologues so I took him out of his misery,” you chuckle at the young man’s astonished expression, quite liking how expressive his reactions were despite having only just met him.

“So ummm...do you wanna go to the throne room with me? That thing’s lackeys said that I should sit on the throne to make my rule as their new boss ‘official’ and well, I dunno about you but any place is better than kneeling on the wet ground”

Still flustered with the turn of events, Vergil could only wordlessly nod and before he could get up on his own, you grasp his free hand and pull him up with surprising strength.

“Great! Since you’re new here too, we both can get a tour of the place!”

The katana-wielder would have normally pulled his hand back by now in disgust and or disdain, but strangely enough he didn’t mind how your utterly warm and soft hand clutched his own. Your hand is so small that he could easily cover it if he took the initiative to do so, but he found himself both reluctant to move and content with...whatever this was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Darling, please...fuck me open. Mate me. Breed me…!” You whine and whimper as you sway your hips tantalizingly, looking back at Vergil who’d activated his Sin Devil Trigger form with complete want and adoration. Everything about his current form aroused your most primal side, wanting nothing more than to have him fuck you until were bow-legged and undeniably swollen with his potent seed.

Though he couldn’t speak up in this form, the low grunts and the way his scaled hands took handfuls of your backside as he pressed his equally demonic-looking cock into your weeping slit had you keening and sighing as he sunk its entire length in one thrust.

As Vergil had his way with your equally enthusiastic self, you couldn’t help but smile stupidly as thoughts of the future filled your mind. Specifically, the pitter-patter of little feet that would undeniably become an absolute reality soon enough, especially as you feel the base of your mate’s cock inflating in order to lock himself inside your willing cunt.

You always did like the name Nero...

#lexsssu writes #devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #vergil x reader #devil may cry vergil x reader #dmc vergil x reader #dmc vergil #vergil x you #vergil x y/n #dmc x reader #crossposted on ao3

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sashi-ya · 1 year

Text

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 [+𝟏𝟖] 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗! 𝚊𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

⬥ Happy birthday, Aizen-sama! ⬥ tw: +18. vag, fingering, possessive aizen taicho. I included many references: one of his phrases in hueco mundo, poem 12, the ink because of his lessons of calligraphy, momo and the letter to momo, Kyoka Suigetsu's meaning, the "untouchable" aspect of his personality and the development of his plan. toxic aizen.⬥ wc: 2k

“I refuse to let you go” “Sosuke, you are making this way more difficult than it should be. Please, stop it”

Your knees carve into the wooden floor of his room. The sun hasn’t even risen in the Seireitei, and you wanna leave before it does. But he won’t let you. Sosuke Aizen’s reiatsu is way stronger that the rest of the people know about. He can make you choke with just a simple stare from his deep brown eyes.

You cough, in all fours, spiting on the ground and panting. You need oxygen. “Sos…Sosuke… just- stop this… you are gonna kill me”

He stands up from the bed you were tangled with him a few moments ago in, and puts on his glasses. “Don’t go. I told you, I won’t let you go” he says, almost like a child throwing a tantrum for a sweet.

He stops that rib crushing pressure and extends his hand to you. You look up at him, with eyes filled with tears. It still hurts that he thinks is ok to control you with that. Yet, controlling you with Kyoka Suigetsu could be worse. But he said he never will… right?

“Why- why are you wearing your glasses after all?” you ask, bitter. You know his secret. Captain Aizen isn’t that innocent after all.

“Because- never mind” he sighs, taking them off. “Stay. I need you here” he replies, as he leaves those supposedly fake glasses over the desk where a letter that has already been written lays.

You shake your dizziness away and stand up with difficulty. “No. Why? Call that little girl you like to fuck better” you grunt, believing that you have already decided you won’t be next to him when the “treachery plan” starts.

He laughs. “Are you serious, right now? I thought you were more intelligent than that, (Name)” he tries to gaslight you while walking towards you in a peaceful but dominant way.

His hand surrounds your wrist; but Aizen isn’t hurting you, not even grabbing you strongly enough for you not to leave. “Jealous? For me? Are you jealous, (Name)?” he asks, then taking his thumb to your lips.

You are tired of always succumbing to his lustful, so sinful approaches. He is unsatiable, and you are the only one knowing such thing. Because for the rest, the sweet captain of the fifth division of the Gotei 13, could never do such nasty things to their subordinates. Right?

“Aren’t you satisfied already? How much more you would like to use my body, Sosuke?” you spit, venomously.

“Why are you angry exactly? Is it because I told you tomorrow night not to come? Or because you want to come with me?” Sosuke asks you, making you walk backwards until your legs hit the desk behind you.

You swallow. Truth is that, you want to go with him to Las Noches. And also, you don’t want him to sleep with that annoying one… even if, it would be only Kyoka Suigetsu.

“Because… fuck you, Sosuke. That’s why” you back up, being the only woman able to talk to him that way. He would never, ever, allow anyone else call him by his first name, and much less insult him. But he knows where all of this comes from, and he is having so much fun with it.

You try to look away; Aizen is barely wearing his lose pants over nothing. If you focus on him, your eyes will only fall into the trap of his caramel skin. If you look past him, into the wrinkled sheets of his bed where he just fucked you.

“Look at me, (Name)… you really wanna go?” he asks grabbing your chin in between his thumb and index. So delicately he makes you look at him, as he comes closer and whisper into your ear. “You want to come with me, then? You really wish to be a traitor? You will be considered a criminal by the Soul Society. Would you go that far for me?”

You close your eyes. Frowning in pain… he is absolutely right. And he wouldn’t do the same for you; you just know that. You know he will never ask you to trust in him, if you do… it is just because you wish for it.

“I would go further, Sosuke. Even if I know, you will never, ever, protect me” you murmur, accepting an inexorable truth that makes you wanna cry.

You can hear him gasp. Somehow, your words were… surprising for him? For a man who has every step planned?

Aizen passes his hands behind your legs and lifts you up, sitting you over his desk. The calligraphy tint spills, falling like dark tears into the floor. Your palms get stained in black ink, almost like traces of blood that hasn’t yet been spilled… the blood of your people in the Gotei 13. You, knowing the truth of Aizen’s plans, and hiding them, make you already a criminal to them.

In between your legs he comes closer, pressing his forehead on yours. His chocolate eyes, as sweet but also as bitter, can’t look at yours for a couple of minutes. Aizen takes your hand to his chest, place in where you leave your handprint.

“Who said I won’t protect you, (Name)? No matter what may happen… As long as you walk by my side… There shall be no enemy that can stand before us.” He murmurs, giving you the gift of empty words, you chose to believe in.

You let your head fall over the crook of his neck. The smell of his skin, the deadly perfume you inhale and feel like your body relaxes instantly; the protrusion of his collar bones that call you to bite; the tickling sensation of his soft wavy hair… so inevitably irresistible.

He plants a warm kiss on your shoulder, grunting and inhaling your skin perfume. His hands travel to your arms, pulling down the yukata you quickly grabbed from the floor to cover your nudity.

He scoffs, sexily. “Where you planning on going out like this? with my clothes?” he asks, as he exposes your skin once more. “You want the rest to know you are mine. Don’t you, (Name)?”.

The way your name sounds with his deep voice, and the way he so subtly degrades you to his absolute sex doll makes you shiver. Your cheeks burn. He is not exactly right, but neither he is wrong, you want the rest to know you are his, and how much of yours he is.

“Is not that… I- Sosuke, please” you beg, what exactly… you don’t know. “Mhh? What?” he asks, smirking so deadly, as he slides his two fingers inside you.

You throw your head back, biting your lower lip. Even if you are still sensitive and swollen from before, you want more. Your body screams for more of his sweet torture.

Aizen knows perfectly well where and how to touch. The perfect rhythm, the ups and downs. Your body is yet another subject of investigation, one of his most successful ones.

“If I go without you, who would you fuck if it’s not me, mh?” Aizen inquires you, with tricky questions that have no right answer. He only wants to have a reason to punish you, even if he doesn’t really need one.

“No- Nobody” you murmur, in between whines and little moans. His fingertips bury right on the spot, making your inner thighs to tremble and your lower part to lose the sense of control. Your stained hands make a mess of his back, with nails that carve in marks that soon time will erase.

He keeps going, fingering you with merciless pace and enjoying every little whimper coming from your lips. Ah, so swollen lips he attacks with nibbling teeth that could make you bleed. Just like the love you have for this man, painful but so addictive.

It hurts, but keep biting, pulling, possessing me.

Aizen rejoices with the juicy sound of your cunt being violated by his fingers but is never enough for him. As much as he enjoys control over you, it is him who is losing it for his own body. For some reason, tonight he wants so much more than any night.

Is Aizen afraid of something? Of losing you? Even a genius like him sometimes feels doubt in his heart when it comes to love and loss.

“Let’s go to bed…” he murmurs. Usually, he wouldn’t care to fuck you almost everywhere. His desk, the floor, the bathroom, or his secret laboratory. But, tonight Aizen seems soft.

You nod, surrounding his waist with your legs, allowing him to carry to his bed. It is still warm from your bodies, even perhaps a little wet. And now, it’s about to become stained with ink, too.

When he deposits you on the mattress, you sigh loudly. His topping body over yours always leaves you out of breath. Sosuke looks at you, with eyes that aren’t proper for a man like him. Eyes that hide a tint of longing, there, where you can only see.

None of you speak. Would have made any difference? Absolutely not. The calm before the storm is always the most silent moment.

He takes your arms up and pin them above your head. With his free hand, he unties the cord that holds the hakama up, offering you a slow-motion show of his hips being revealed. It will definitely be painful when his body won’t be here to admire no more.

The stain of your hand remains there, in the middle of his chest, like the hollows, like the outcome of his plan… There, where your fingerprints have been left, will be then something shiny and powerful. Something that, in the end, will be the death of him, of you.

“Sosuke… if this is our last night, could you please make love to me?” you ask, moved by the painful ideas you just had. Love, what a stupid word to name in front of him.

“Love…” he whispers, letting go of your hands. At this point you are sure he will start giving you a three-minute-long speech on why love is stupid, and only belongs to humans.

But instead, in total calm, he takes his hand to your cheek, giving you the sweetest caress ever given by his soul. “Yes, I will…”

Your eyes widen, and probably your pupils do too. Your lips separate, but they are immediately tightly closed by his overwhelming kisses. If this is some kind of hallucination created by his Zanpakuto, you don’t know… but you definitely want him to keep going.

His hips search for your open legs almost naturally. He doesn’t need to see, his own hardness knows the way. The tip of Sosuke’s sex grazes your wetness, dragging your fluids up and down, pressing against your clit.

You let your hands printed all over his back and neck, as you clench with passion to his body. His intrusion is violent, but it flows so perfectly. Mixing both in one, feeling his impaling lust.

You can feel the way his back muscles move on your palms, the grunts coming from his mouth. Wishing for some moments to be able to see him fucking you from away… as beautiful and dangerous to enjoy, as a flower in the precipice for so many… and yet, a jump into the abyss just for you. A deep hollow, in which you drown.

“Take me with you… I’ll do anything” you bargain. “Take me with you, or kill me”. “I’m… taking you with me… I can’t- I- yes…ngh” he moans, turning you to the side, with him still deep connected with you.

You face him, noses touching. His hips going in and out, non stop, both reaching climax together, in the peak of pleasure and lust. One million finger prints all over his body, like the imprints of a love that could soon meet the end.

His façade, in pure ecstasy, is like those famous paintings of the human world…

“Aizen Sosuke, you are pure art. Like the reflection of a beautiful flower in the calmed waters of a lake…But, will I ever be able to touch the flower?”

You are the only one, who has ever touched it, (Name)… because even if I become untouchable, there are stains on my skin that will never fade away”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd the blade crossed your heart, but it didn’t hurt. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAfter all, you didn’t need to betray Gotei 13…

taglist: @stygianoir @vexronicaa 💖

#aizen sōsuke #aizen x reader #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen bleach #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #bleach x reader fanfic #bleach fanfic #muken aizen #sashi ya #aizen smut

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mamamittens · 1 year

Text

Oh Sweet Child of Mine (Luffy AU End)

The Main series presumes platonic feelings all around. This is specifically an end shipping the reader with Yandere Luffy.

Because I didn't get clarification on what the original requestor (an anon) wanted, I assumed romantic but no smut.

Oh! Slight spoilers for Gear 5 and Wano.

Warnings: General yandere vibes and... technically kidnapping. Fluff.

You know the drill about yandere behavior in real life.

Stay safe and have fun!

Word Count: 1,205

You’d heard about Wano a lot over the past few years. Even before officially becoming a pirate you’d heard about the country in lockdown and it’s many fanciful resources and history. About Kaido and Oden. It seems… strange to be in it now.

Celebrating it’s liberation that you helped only a little, the bulk being taken care of by Luffy, Law, and Kid. Mostly you’d been helping Marco and Ace run interference and patching up those that needed help.

The idea that Luffy—Straw Hat Luffy—took down Kaido, King of the Beasts, was strange. But you’d seen it with your own eyes (from a safe distance) and it was a sight to behold. Gear 5, as Luffy called it, something else as well. Finally falling into sync with the true potential of his devil fruit though he’d still need to work at it.

Oyaji had organized a large feast for the occasion, incredibly happy that his brother had been avenged at long last. Thatch and Sanji working together to provide an incredible array of food alongside the now free citizens. The two chefs getting along well as they traded recipes and ideas as they worked. And honestly, it took all their attention to ensure that there was enough food for everyone—even Ace and Luffy who ate enough on a regular basis to astound literal giants.

Wrapped in bandages and as lively as ever, Luffy crowed to Ace at every opportunity that he beat out his big brother for liberating Wano. Ace would, naturally, pause with a mouthful of food to wrestle his brother into the ground for his insolence. Sabo—unexpectedly a third brother—cutting in every so often when they got too rowdy.

After eating dirt and a hunk of meat bigger than your head, Luffy paused, eyes fixing on you as he grinned.

“Hey! Join my crew!”

Your brothers choked and coughed beside you, several cackling at the audacity and muttering about Akagami being a bad influence. You smiled wryly, flashing your right wrist where Oyaji’s mark was boldly inked in a light blue.

“I’m already apart of another crew, Luffy.” You reminded him and he pouted.

“You said to ask you again when I found the drums! I did! It’s in Gear 5!”

Ah. You did say that, didn’t you?

Marco threw his arm over your shoulder, his smile a bit wry and sharp for the occasion.

“You’re getting a little bold there after taking down one Yonko, you really think you’re ready to take on another?” Marco asked. Luffy huffed, Ace watching him with an amused grin.

“It’s not about your dad! It’s about them! And I want them on my crew!” Luffy protested. Marco narrowed his eyes.

“Oi. You making plans for their devil fruit? You really think we’ll just give them up because you said so?”

Luffy frowned, confused as he tilted his head.

“What’s their fruit got anything to do with it? They’d make a good fit for my crew and that’s that.” You smiled, chuckling a little as Luffy looked right at you. “I don’t mind that you’re part of Banana-Stache’s crew right now. I just want to be the Pirate King with you.”

You blinked in surprise.

“You’re bold, Straw Hat.” You muttered, taking a sip of your drink. “Why would I leave Oyaji to go with you?”

Luffy huffed, brows scrunching as he tried to think of how to phrase his reasoning.

“I wanted you to join my crew when we first met but you weren’t ready yet. Not to join anyone’s crew. But now you are!” Luffy whined, nose crinkling. “And my crew is strong enough now that no one would need your fruit anyway…”

Ace laughed, shoving down Luffy’s head and ruffling his hat roughly.

“You’re such a persistent shit, Lu! C’mon, what’s the real reason you want them on your crew? I know it’s not their fruit—and they are pretty great—but what’s your real aim here?” Ace demanded loudly.

Luffy smacked Ace’s hands away with a cry of complaint.

“I wanna take them on an adventure they’ll never forget! With my whole crew! I want to show them everything! Anything they want to see!” Luffy declared, much to the shock of everyone there. Ace looked stunned, lips twitching into a smile as he narrowed his eyes at his little brother. “I want to give them the world!”

“Y-You… you sound like you’ve got a crush?!” Ace breathed in disbelief.

Luffy paused, almost as surprised as everyone else. Wide eyes turning to you as you could almost see the gears turning in his head.

The air grew heavy as your crew started to grow restless and a little unhappy with the new possible revelation.

Then, just as suddenly, it stopped, Luffy sitting up with a relaxed smile.

“Huh. Yeah.” Luffy looked at Ace with a wide grin. “I guess I do, shishishishishi~!”

There was an immediate outcry of denial around you, Marco pulling you behind him as you heard the offended gasps around you.

A stretchy limb snaked around the bodies between you and pulled you through the crowd until you stumbled into Luffy. Eager and laughing loudly, he hugged you, much to the protest of your crew.

The drums of liberation in your ear as you reeled in shock.

That was… really unexpected.

“You’re a cocky brat Straw Hat!” Oyaji declared with a sharp smile. “Do you really think you could make them take back my mark? That I’d let you?”

Luffy pulled back from nuzzling your cheek, grinning over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t make them get rid of your mark, old man! Your family!” Luffy lowered his voice, hand reaching down to press his thumb over the thundering pulse in your left wrist. “I’d want your left hand anyway.”

You gasped, face red at the implications.

“WHAT! WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO THEM?!” Ace screamed, reaching over to try and pry Luffy off of you. Luffy cackled, wrapping his arms around you in tight circles as he danced away. Keeping you firmly pressed against his chest.

“Don’t worry, Ace! You’re invited!”

“Invited to WHAT?! Luffy!” Ace screeched chasing after you both as you laughed hysterically, unsure of what to say to that. Sabo joined shortly, the two brothers chasing after as Luffy just kept laughing louder and louder, hair turning puffy and white as he rounded the bonfire in mad circles.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You huffed, a little breathless from laughing so hard. Luffy literally lit up, his smile wide and beaming with light.

“Hear that?! I’m cute!” Luffy declared happily.

“You can’t go with him just because he’s cute!”

“I thought we raised you better than that!”

“Stop corrupting them, you brat!”

“Bluebird, no!”

“That’s it! You’re grounded! Again!”

You laughed, hugging Luffy back as he launched himself into the sky, Zoro and Sanji covering his escape.

“I’m glad you’re ready for me now. I don’t think I could have waited much longer to take you with me.” Luffy admitted, eyes a bright, glowing red. He squeezed you a little harder, the threat clear.

You… don’t think you were going back to the Moby Dick after this. No matter how hard your crew protested.

#one piece yandere #yandere luffy #oh sweet child of mine #reader insert #luffy x reader

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